Magnetism is the ability of a material to be attracted by a magnet. It also include the ability for some material to act like a magnet. No doubt youve handled refrigerator magnets. You can see some in Figure 1.28. You probably know they stick to a metal refrigerator. This is what holds your homework up. Maybe your little sisters drawings are hung on the fridge in this manner. Do magnets stick to all materials? Of course not. You have probably checked and they do not stick to other surfaces. They do not stick to wooden doors or glass windows. Wood and glass are not attracted to a magnet. Obviously, only certain materials are attracted to magnets. 

Do Magnets stick to all materials?


What a time of it Dawson's Landing was having!  All its life it had been asleep, but now it hardly got a chance for a nod, so swiftly did big events and crashing surprises come along in one another's wake: Friday morning, first glimpse of Real Nobility, also grand reception at Aunt Patsy Cooper's, also great robber raid; Friday evening, dramatic kicking of the heir of the chief citizen in presence of four hundred people; Saturday morning, emergence as practicing lawyer of the long-submerged Pudd'nhead Wilson; Saturday night, duel between chief citizen and titled stranger.  The people took more pride in the duel than in all the other events put together, perhaps.  It was a glory to their town to have such a thing happen there.  In their eyes the principals had reached the summit of human honor.  Everybody paid homage to their names; their praises were in all mouths.  Even the duelists' subordinates came in for a handsome share of the public approbation: wherefore Pudd'nhead Wilson was suddenly become a man of consequence.  When asked to run for the mayoralty Saturday night, he was risking defeat, but Sunday morning found him a made man and his success assured. 

What was the most glorious event at Dawson's Landing?


 The little party in the cabin, so disastrously begun, finished, under the mellowing influence of wine and woman, in excellent feeling and with some hilarity.  Mamie, in a plush Gainsborough hat and a gown of wine-coloured silk, sat, an apparent queen, among her rude surroundings and companions.  The dusky litter of the cabin set off her radiant trimness: tarry Johnson was a foil to her fair beauty; she glowed in that poor place, fair as a star; until even I, who was not usually of her admirers, caught a spark of admiration; and even the captain, who was in no courtly humour, proposed that the scene should be commemorated by my pencil.  It was the last act of the evening.  Hurriedly as I went about my task, the half-hour had lengthened out to more than three before it was completed: Mamie in full value, the rest of the party figuring in outline only, and the artist himself introduced in a back view, which was pronounced a likeness.  But it was to Mamie that I devoted the best of my attention; and it was with her I made my chief success. 


What task took more than three hours to complete?